The sacred death dayball blocking sheets of sky heather are predicted to persist for hours and hours. The blessed snow will fall until Sunday morning. This is middle Friday afternoon. Bliss.

My second favorite temperate season rubs her nipples on the earth. Watch the herbs flee! My chest heaves proudly. My calorie reserves stoke the natural molten campfire embers flowing through my blood vessels. Parastealing a quote from a cute bunny weather gal; there ain't no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing. Winter is in the house and I'm more than prepared. Werd. Bliss.

Xanax can't touch the rejuvenation of spirit that freshly fallen snow has on my tickle. If I heeded the numerous advise demons crawling up my shoulder and actually sought the advice of a therapist, I would skip the session today. A psycologist's analytic prick would go soft against the potent stiff clit of winter. Might as well try and push a gummi bear through the head of a needle. My smile cracked three timeses too big this day and I had the strength of ten spankies. I'm all in the glacial deep creep. Bliss.

Perfect atmosphere for hot spiced cider. Moments after stepping out of the gloriously, thin of others, movie theater, slid on over to Lucky's for some steamy liquid pharmacy. Wonderful xmas irreverance flowing through the grey canals. Bad Santa is the yummy puzzle piece needed to fit right into my good mood mosaic. Danced down the street with bubbling beverage in my cashmere lined gloved hands. Bliss.

Stopped off at the bodega for hearty tomato soup supplies. Dangling bag in each hand. Halfway down the block an ice missle explodes to my side. Puerto Rican imps with a roof perch attempting to assail white folk. I sneer smirked. Wishing I had insect infused DNA so I could rapidly scale the fire escape to surprise the delinquents. These little brown children got's no idea what a real snowball is. I would have taught them. As it is, I couldn't help but hope they nail many a passerby after I slipped inside. Good ole mischievious mana materialised from the chilly desires of Freeze Miser laying on all surfaces. Bliss.

The only possible addition to complete the joy package would have been a pair of spread legs to greet me as I dusted the ice off. Nordic climes perfect for wrassling around the sheets. Sheeit, I had a boner all ready before even entering my crib. The near reality imagination I possess was a warm consolation. Made myself dizzy jerking off watching the flakes shimmy down the air. Bliss.

Bliss I say.